


Obedience and Order

by ellekay (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mentions of non-con, Post TWS, Unresolved Sexual Tension, canon-compliant-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ellekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumlow is loose, and the Asset is lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obedience and Order

It was mostly an accident that Brock Rumlow found the Asset.

He’d been out of the hospital and on the run for three weeks. He’d fled before he’d had a chance to fully heal, fracturing a nurse’s wrist and very nearly breaking both of his own ankles when he jumped out of a third story window. It was a good solid two days of visiting banks where he’d taken out safe deposit boxes under assumed names, finding a place to stay and a phone to use, and catching up on who was dead and who was missing thanks to Romanoff’s little stunt.

It was there that the Asset found him, actually. Knocked on the door like they were old friends, looking like battered hell, as usual, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, arms shoved into the overlarge pockets of the sweatshirt. Emergency protocol programming had led him to his highest ranking commanding officer, which, with Alexander Pierce dead, happened to be Rumlow. He looked him up and down as soon as he opened the door, unsurprised and unimpressed.

“Guess you’re the goddamn cavalry, right?”

The Asset said nothing, pushing his way into the apartment and meeting Rumlow’s eyes as he shoved past him.

That was new.

Rumlow closed the door, now tense and wary. His combat abilities weren’t exactly up to par at the moment, and if the infamous Winter Soldier was making eye contact with his superiors, he might very well have a situation on his hands.

“Report,” he barked, staring at the man pacing around the tiny living space. The Asset looked sharply up at him. He seemed to struggle with himself for a second before his eyelids dropped slightly.

“Target is still residing at his last known address.”

“Sounds about right. Romanoff?”

“Whereabouts unknown.”

“Wilson?”

“Abroad. Last known location was La Guardia.”

“You don’t know where he was headed?”

“Negative.” The Asset stared evenly at him for a moment before he blinked, hard. Rumlow scrambled for another command.

“What’s your status?”

“Yellow.”

Rumlow frowned. He’d only heard “yellow” once before from the Asset, and that was during a hit in Eastern Europe that went horribly wrong. A good majority of a building had collapsed with the Asset inside. He’d turned up at the extraction point with a head injury, a broken leg, and massive internal bleeding. His mods had done most of the work in putting him back together, but he’d never forget seeing those dead eyes through a mask of his own dried blood. Right now, he looked fine.

“Elaborate.”

Slowly, the Asset blinked, raising both hands to his head. He gripped around his ears and crumpled onto the tiny bed suddenly. Rumlow took a step forward but kept his distance.

“I said elaborate.”

“Barnes,” he whispered. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Shit,” Rumlow muttered. The Asset repeated the name a couple of times, under his breath, like a prayer. Rumlow strode forward, delivering a savage blow with the back of his hand. The Asset dropped to the side, unresisting and now silent.

“You forget that name, that’s an order.”

The Asset stayed down, face turned in to the mattress. Rumlow was breathless for reasons he couldn’t quite place. HYDRA was order, and order was something Rumlow valued higher than anything else. He wasn’t concerned with free will or moral correctness. They were both myths. The Asset had always represented order to him; what true obedience could mean for the free world. Now that order was replaced with a fractured set of memories and malfunctioning programming. He grabbed the Asset by the shirt and hauled him up again.

“Forget. That name.”

The Asset blinked, eyes laced with something like hatred trying to scream its way through. Rumlow slapped him again, grabbing him by the chin.

“Forget. Now.”

The Asset gave him a blurry look and made a motion like nodding, restricted by the vice like grip on his face.

“Good.” Rumlow relaxed his grip slightly, breathing hard, and let his thumb glide over the Asset’s lower lip in the process. His jaw was slack and his eyes were dead again. He looked the way he was supposed to again.

Perfect obedience.

“Open your mouth.”

The Asset complied without hesitation, lips falling open, eyes staring straight ahead. Rumlow ran his thumb over the Asset’s teeth, keeping a close watch on his expression for any sign of awareness.

“Your a weapon. That’s all you should know.” Rumlow pushed his mouth open a little farther. “And I need you to stay that way if we’re going to take back what they destroyed.” He withdrew his thumb, slick and shiny with saliva. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” the Asset said.

“I need you to take orders. Will you?”

“Yes.”

“Then get on the floor. On your knees.”

The Asset slid off the bed without question. Rumlow felt a tight thrill run through him at the sight, not unlike how he felt when he watched the Asset pull of a flawless kill and move on like he’d done nothing impressive at all. The sick enjoyment ran through his limbs and settled as something like arousal in his stomach. The temptation to fuck the Asset’s mouth until he suffocated was strong, but he kept himself in check, tightening and releasing his fists to maintain control over his urges.

“HYDRA is order. The world is in chaos. It’s up to you and me, now. We’ll find our allies and put the pieces back together. Humanity needs what we have to offer.” He felt a swelling of pride as he spoke, despite the fact that he was practically alone in a dirty motel room, with only a shell of a man as an audience. “You are with me.”

“Yes.”

“We have a lot of work to do. You have targets to eliminate before we go any further. We need a 20 on Wilson, and I want Rogers dead by the end of the week.” He watched the Assets eyes, but there wasn’t even a flicker at the mention of Rogers’ name. “Romanoff is going to be tougher, but we’ll catch up with the bitch in due time. You report in to me every twelve hours, no exceptions. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Hail HYDRA.”

The Assets eyes snapped to him.

“Hail HYDRA.”


End file.
